


Fenders Friday

by TearsOfWinter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: HAPPY ENDING Y'ALL, M/M, Mild Smut, Reunion, This isn't sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearsOfWinter/pseuds/TearsOfWinter
Summary: A rotating collection of fics for Fenders Friday.July 28th theme: WaterSummary: Anders' died after the Kirkwall Chantry explosion. Through Hawke's insistence, Fenris joins the Inquisition, but everywhere he goes, he's haunted by Anders' image, always looking for him.Rotating fic means this fic will be deleted and replaced by a new fic on Aug 4th





	Fenders Friday

Fenris accompanied the Herald to Red Cliffe. If it had been his decision, he would've left the mages to the magisters. What were they thinking allying with Tevinter? These were the people Anders spent a decade championing for? These pampered mages that knew no strife, no hardship that they happily go from one jailor to the other- Anders sacrificed himself for them?

Fenris swallowed down his bitterness. What was done was done. Anders was dead and he was never coming back. Hawke glanced over her shoulder at him, a worry furrow between her brows. He shook his head and followed, one foot in front of the other. Rather than wallow in his grief (or broodiness as Varric called it), he should be protecting the Herald and their entourage.

Hawke gave him another concerned look, but didn't press the issue. Fenris was grateful to his friend. Without her, he would've been lost, drowning himself with wine or dead in the gutter from the many fights he picked. He wanted to follow Anders in death, but was too much of a coward to slit his own throat. He sought after it in other ways and would've eventually succeeded if not for Hawke. The woman fiercely loved and protected her friends, even if it was from themselves. Fenris knew Hawke dragged him along to Skyhold because she was worried about leaving him alone in his mansion. Too many memories haunted him. He needed the distraction. It was...good to be out of Kirkwall, away from it all, from the place that stole Anders from him.  

"Grand Enchanter Fiona waits for you in here." Their guide stepped aside, holding the door to the Gull and Lantern ajar.

The Herald glanced at each of them, a silent agreement passed among the group, before she stepped inside. The others shuffled to join her, but Fenris shook his head.

"I'll stay outside."

"Fenris...," Hawke began, but he held up his hand.

"I may be more...comfortable... with southern mages, but I can't promise what I'll do if I see a magister. If the Herald wants to broke some sort of peace, I doubt my presence will help the matter. I'll stay out here where I'm more useful."

Hawke stared, her eyes piercing into him before she gave a single nod. When she disappeared into the tavern with the others, leaving only him behind, Fenris sighed. Tension left his body as he leaned against the wall; he couldn't be entirely at ease, considering the amount of mages surrounding him, but his shoulders sagged from relief.

The Herald and her mark, it felt like claw marks along his skin, making it difficult to be around her. She, herself, had a fine personality, but Fenris rather not spend as much time with her if he could help it. Without Anders easing his markings...he didn't want them agitated.

Shaking his head, he looked up and began scanning the crowd, taking in the amount people and mages. Unconsciously, his eyes followed after every blond, hoping against all hope... But of course it was nothing but foolish fantasy. This one was a woman, that one too old, the hair was too platinum blond. He had to keep telling himself Anders was gone, dead and buried. There was no use in searching for him in a crowd.

"Ser Healer, do you have any more elfroot potion?"

Fenris immediately picked up on the word "healer" from among the village sounds. His gaze turned toward the speaker, a young boy holding his hand out to a man with honey blond hair, the same shade as... His heart jumped to his throat.

"Mage!" Fenris shouted, the name spilling out from him. Multitude of mages turned his way, but he saw only one.

Even at a distance, Fenris saw familiar amber eyes widen in recognition. The potion slipped from the man's hand and shattered on the ground. Fenris raced forth, and grabbed the mage's arm.

"You're alive," he breathed for what he felt like the first time in forever, "I thought you were dead. We buried you. Anders, how-"

A hand slapped over his mouth, shushing him. Anders was warm, his body produced heat. His hand smelled of elfroot as it always did. He was alive. Truly, alive.

"Don't say my name here." Fearfully, Anders  glanced around, checking to see if anyone caught his name. "Even among the rebels I'm something of a taboo." He removed his hand when he noticed the heat of Fenris' lips against the palm of his hand. "I...I guess you have some questions. I'll answer them, but not here. Come with me to my home."

Anders turned to leave, but Fenris grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Answer me this first: why did you not tell me? If you were alive all this time, why-"

"Because I didn't want you to know. Because you shouldn't be shackled to someone like me." Anders tore his arm out of Fenris' grip and began walking without stopping to see if Fenris would follow.

"What do you mean?" Fenris asked, taking two steps for Anders' every one. He had to jog to keep in stride with Anders' longer legs.

"You should marry," Anders said, refusing to meet the other's gaze. "Find yourself a nice woman, retire to the country, and father some children. You should lead a happy life. A fulfilling life."

"That's what you want. Those are your dreams."

Anders stopped in his tracks and turned to face Fenris. "Not anymore," he whispered tonelessly. "Hopes and dreams are for fools...and so is love."

Where was his mage, Fenris wondered, the one full of fire and life, the one who championed after the weak? He imagined so many things, so many scenarios in his head. But not this. He didn’t imagine Anders devoid of emotion, of hating his touch.

Perhaps in the end, he lost Anders after all.

Without warning, rain fell from the sky to drench the people down on earth. The bustling streets filled to the brim a moment ago, quickly emptied as people ran to find shelter.  
  
“Come on, this way,” Anders ran ahead towards an alley, shading his head from the rain with the sleeve of his shirt.  
  
Fenris watched numbly as Anders got further and further away from him. He tried to take a step forward, tried to close their distance, but his feet wouldn’t listen. Their gap widened as Fenris stood there, getting rained upon. When Anders rounded the corner, disappearing from Fenris’ sight, his heart clenched. He took a hesitant step, then another; with each step he took, he gained speed and soon he was running outright to catch up with Anders. He frantically searched the corner the mage turned. His heart drummed in his ears as he saw the blond in front of him, still out of reach. No, no. He can’t let Anders out of his sight again.  
  
Out of pure desperation, Fenris grabbed Anders’ wrist and flung him against the wall. Fenris leaned in, placing his hands on either side of Anders’ head.  
  
“What are you-” Anders started to say but his angry words died in his throat when he met Fenris’ eyes.  
  
Anguished eyes searched Anders’ impassive face desperately. Surely Anders stilled loved him. The few years of separation meant nothing to them. Surely he couldn’t change that much could he? As he stared into those amber orbs reflecting the diminishing light, Fenris found himself afraid of the answer. He slammed his fist against the wall next to Anders’ head and laid his forehead on the other man's shoulder, hiding from those uncaring eyes. Anders briefly glanced at Fenris but said nothing. For a long, long while they stood there, now drenched by the rain. Their wet clothes clung to their bodies but neither of them were cold; their body heat seeped into one another. By now the street teeming with life earlier was all but deserted. The noise of all the vendors, all the people disappeared, replaced by the falling rain. It was like they belonged in a world of their own, separated from everyone else. Anders lightly touched Fenris’ shoulder. If only it would continue to rain forever.  
  
“Let’s go, it’s raining,” Anders said softly.  
  
Fenris leaned against Anders for a few more minutes before lifting his head, “Yes…yes, you’re right. We should go.”  
  
Despite saying that, Fenris did not remove his hands. He was afraid that if he moved, everything he worked for between them would shatter. They continued to stand there- silently- as rain fell around them. In the pouring rain, Fenris’ eyes ran lovingly over Anders' face. He noticed that the blond's hair turned an even darker shade of gold when wet; that droplets of water formed on his eyelashes and fell like tears whenever he blinked. The elf's observation stopped short when Anders’ bangs slid over his face, heavy from the weight of the rain. Wordlessly, Fenris raised a hand and brushed the wayward hair aside, tucking them behind Anders’ ear. His hand stilled by the other man's face when he met Anders' eyes. He didn’t know why Anders was special. There were others with the same brown eyes- many mages with the exact shade- but he never found himself drowning in them. He only found himself drowning in this man’s…as he was drowning in them now.  
  
Anders lips parted as if to say something yet not a sound passed his lips. Instead he reached a hand up to brush Fenris’ own wet strands from his face. His hand lingered for a moment against Fenris’ damp cheek but just as he was about to remove his hand, Fenris grabbed onto it, pressing it against his lips. Elven eyes mesmerized him. He couldn’t look away. All Anders could do was stare numbly as emerald eyes came closer and closer, searing him with their intensity.  
  
Soft, wet lips touched his lightly, gently and then left, taking their warmth with them. Fenris raised his eyes to meet the clarity of Anders’, waiting for any sign of resistance, of rejection but none came.

Anders burned with uncertainty that he wouldn’t show on his face. After so many years apart and the mage-templar war waging, did Fenris just expect him to fall into his arms, declaring undying love for him again? Did he just intend to ignore the blood on his hand, the people Anders killed? Fenris may be able to forgive him, but Anders couldn't forgive himself. The elf deserved so much better.

 Anders closed his eyes and allowed the cold rain to run down his face. He hurts. He hurts so much. After the Blight, it was one thing after another- a nonstop cycle of pain. His body ached and his head throbbed from all the suffering of his people. Then…then just when he thought he found a companion among his enemies and everything would be alright again because Fenris was there- a balm to his weary soul- it all fell apart like shattered glass.  
  
How did Fenris remain sane when he has gone through just as much? How could he just expect love like it had no cost when his heart had been broken so many times? How could he ask them to be together again when they could be easily separated? Maybe he’d ask him one of these days but for now he didn't want to think about the past or the future and let Fenris soothe away his worries, his anxiety like he did in the past. As long as it continued to rain, blocking the harsh blows of reality, he’d like to forget all the responsibility placed on his shoulders for a moment. Justice blared in his head, sensing his selfish decision. But just for a while, he wanted to be selfish and let himself love and be loved.  
  
Fenris ran his hands down Anders’ arms before resting at the other man’s hips. By now Anders' tunic had become almost transparent, exposing patches of skin where the shirt clung to him. Through the thin garment, he could feel Fenris’ hands radiate heat at his waist. They stared into each other’s eyes, a silent question hung between them. Slowly Fenris leaned in for another kiss, giving Anders a chance to turn away but he didn’t. This time Anders closed his eyes and allowed the sensation to carry him. Their kiss remained chaste, nothing more than sequences of lips brushing together fleetingly before parting. It was all so innocent, so modest; it made the meaning of the kiss that much more clear to the both of them.  
  
Fenris sighed into the kiss- a reunion between lovers. He smiled slightly and opened his eyes, stroking Anders’ rain dampened cheek, loving how smooth it was. His heart was bursting with happiness he didn’t feel a moment ago. Anders leaned into Fenris’ hand, returning the smile with one of his own. The smaller man’s eyes darkened to a darker shade of green. He cupped the back of Anders’ head, bringing the mage closer. Anders was so close to him- close enough where he could feel his hot breath on his cold skin. But it wasn’t enough. He knew he shouldn’t push he luck. He should be grateful Anders let them kiss when earlier he barely could stand breathing the same air as him. He should be grateful- and he was- but he wanted more.

Fenris pushed Anders against the wall of the alleyway with the weight of his body. He embraced the slender man closer to him with one hand still on the back of Anders’ neck and kissed him hard until Anders opened his mouth, accepting Fenris’ overtures. This was no longer a tepid reunion between them but a consuming passion left too long buried.

Anders grabbed onto one of Fenris’ forearm and wrapped the other one around the Fenris’ neck. He had forgotten how hot Fenris’ kisses could be. It was burning him. He could feel his body temperature rise despite the cold rain pouring down on them. Fenris swallowed Anders' gasp when he felt the elf's arousal press against him through his now translucent clothing.  
  
Fenris pulled away and stared into Anders' eyes. Their heated lips cooled quickly in the falling rain. Fenris, never leaving Anders' eyes once, reached for the other’s waistband, resting his hand lightly on the edges of the pants and waited silently. Anders met the elf's unwavering gaze and like in a trance, lightly placed his own hand on top of Fenris'. Together they pushed the waistband down, down, down Anders' body. When it got mid-thigh, Fenris bent down to help Anders free one of his legs.  
  
“I don’t want it to get dirty…” Anders admonished quietly.  
  
Fenris kissed the inside of the mage's thigh that was still inside the pant before standing up and lifting it to wrap around his waist, “It won’t.”  
  
In a deft motion, Fenris freed himself and pressed against Anders' entrance. Anders grabbed onto the Fenrisn’s shoulder and looked away, closing his eyes. Fenris nuzzled Anders' neck and licked away the water gathered there, “Look at me.”  
  
Anders' eyes fluttered at the command uttered at his neck- hot breath against his skin- and turned his face towards Fenris. Words passed between them without speaking. Then with a bie of his lips and a nod, there was a flash of blue magic.

Certain that the other man wouldn’t look away, Fenris entered Anders very slowly. Anders stiffened at the initial pain but said nothing, digging his nails into Fenris' drenched coat. Even with the help of magic, his body needed time to adjust to the elf's girth. It'd been far too long since their last...

Inch by agonizing inch, Fenris pushed himself inside his companion until he was finally buried to the hilt. The pain and tightness was excruciating to the both of them, however not once did they break their gaze from one another. Experimentally Fenris raised the leg wrapped around him a little higher, allowing him to press deeper. Anders took a sharp intake of breathe. Pleasure radiated throughout his body, almost causing him to close his eyes to savor the sensation. Anders could tell that Fenris felt the same pleasure course through him as well when his green eyes clouded over from sheer bliss.  
  
Their gaze locked onto each other’s face, Fenris began rocking against Anders' body. Anders arching his back, gasped but his eyes did not stray from Fenris' eyes. Fenris pushed a little harder, deeper and felt Anders tremble in his arms. Looking into his eyes, however, Fenris knew it wasn’t because of his increased pace but from the vulnerability he felt at baring his soul so clearly. Anders cried out as Fenris thrust inside of him, pressing him firmly against the wall. He would not let Anders look away, break this connection that they had. If they could not express what they felt in words then Fenris would settle for peering into each other’s inner being; as if they could read each other’s every single thought while joined in the most ancient act of human and elven kind; telling each other wordlessly how much they cherished one another.  
  
Anders panted breathlessly, watching Fenris' face in a daze. Too much. It was too much. This went beyond physical intimacy and delved further than what Anders wanted. He was losing himself in emerald eyes, unable to separate where he began and Fenris ended. Fenris will find out every single secret that he held close, every single wish and hope. He moaned and clenched his fist a little tighter on Fenris. He was going to go insane. No, no, no. The pressure, the building pressure. Anders bit his lip to stop a groan from escaping. If he allowed Fenris see what was behind his exterior, he’ll never be able to tear himself away from the Fenris again. It can’t happen, it can’t.  
  
Anders desperately wrapped his arms around Fenris' neck and brought the elf's head to rest against his shoulder . Fenris didn’t even have the strength to protest as Anders' wet scent filled his nostril, the final straw to his restrained desire. Anders lifted his head and cried out into the heavens, rain drizzling onto his face as he felt Fenris pour himself into him, dimly aware of the lyrium-warrior's muffling his own cry by burying his face against his shoulder.  
  
They stood there silently, still embracing, letting the rain wash away the remnants of their love making. Anders continued to stare at the gray clouds above them, stroking Fenris' head at his shoulder. Fenris didn’t try to remove his now softening cock from the mage but instead placed tender kisses at the blond's neck and shoulder, feeling the heat from Anders' skin through the soaked garment. Neither of them moved- it took too much effort- and just enjoyed the comfort of touching just for the sake of prolonging the quiet bond they had.  
  
Out in the distance, Anders saw sunlight beginning to peek through the rain clouds. The rain was going to stop soon. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the sun. He hugged Fenris closer, savoring his warmth a little bit more. However, as the rain lightened, people began trickling back to the streets and the noise of their chatter intruded on the reunited lovers' illusionary world. In the end Anders hesitantly, reluctantly unwound his arms from around Fenris. The end was here.  
  
Fenris kept a hand on Anders' nape, massaging it as he watched Anders dress himself soundlessly. When Anders finished dressing, he reached for Fenris' hand at his neck. This time, instead of flinging it away, he brought it to his lips and let it linger; his eyes staring at something million of miles away, before letting go. Neither of them said a word as they walked side by side towards the the mage's home, their hands brushing against each others’. This silence was different than the one before though. As long as they didn’t speak or make a sound, they could still pretend that they were still alone in the rain.

When they finally reached Anders' home, Fenris stood rooted to the spot, uncertain of what Anders wanted from him as the other walked to the bathing chamber. A short while passed and Anders reemerged naked save for a white towel wrapped around his waist. Fenris gave Anders a questioning look but he shook his head and began unbuttoning the elf's shirt. Realizing what the mage wanted, Fenris tried to unbutton his own shirt but Anders, determined to do it himself, wouldn’t let him help. The just stared at Anders' bowed head as he removed one clothing to the next from the warrior's chilled body. As the last of Fenris' wet clothes fell to the floor, Anders led him into the other room, urging him silently to sit in the small bath tub filled with hot water.  
  
Water lapped at their chests as Fenris settled himself between Anders' legs, resting his head against the mage's shoulder. Beneath the water, Anders absentmindedly played with Fenris' hand, interlocking it with his own. Fenris smiled at the action and he half-turned until he faced his lover. With his free hand, cupped a handful of water and poured it across Anders' shoulder. His hand followed the trail it left behind, warming the mage's arm. He dipped his head to kiss away the wet droplets that formed on the human's collar bone.

If there was one thing Fenris understood out in the rain, it was how Anders felt about him.

“Anders,” Fenris whispered softly against the other's ear, “how did you survive. I saw the templar stab you through the heart. We buried you. I placed flowers on you grave everyday for a two years."

Anders' hand paused at making slow circles on Fenris' before continuing. “Justice saved me. You were right. I'm an abomination. Even a stab through the heart can't kill me. I clawed my way out of the coffin...and then I ran."

If Anders was afraid of a reprimand, it never came. Water spilled to the floor as Fenris lifted himself until he straddled Anders' lap. "Do you remember that time I taught you how to use a sword?" he asked, running the back of his hand down the mage's cheek. "You hated it so much. Always complained about your arms being sore, how mages never needed to learn swordplay."

Despite himself, Anders smiled, “Yes but you kept forcing me. No, more like threatened me to try it.”

“Yes, I did.” Fenris chuckled. “The only reason you agreed to it was because I promised I'd take it easy on you.

Anders laughed, “But you didn't.”

“You were angry at me for three days because you thought I broke my promise. Perhaps I did, but I didn't want to leave you defenseless. What if a templar silenced you? You needed to be able to defense yourself." Fenris placed a kiss atop of Anders' head. "Even after the training became intense, instead of giving up, you kept on trying and trying and got so many bruises in the process.”

Anders leaned back against the tub and tilted his head to grin up at Fenris, “And it was all worth it too. I finally beat you and knocked your ass to the ground. The happiest day of my life.”

Fenris smiled back, and asked, “Do you still love me, Anders?”  
  
Anders' face once again became impassive. Ignoring the question, he turned away from Fenris. Tenderly, the elf stroked through golden hair, “How did you finally get better at the sword, mage? Was it because you gave up, afraid to get hurt after you fell the first time? Or were you determined to succeed and see things through?”

"I'm afraid too. I don't know anything about love or relationships. I've never had some I cared for, but what I'm more afraid of than being hurt, is losing you. The more something hurts, the more worthwhile it is. It is things we treasure most that causes us the greatest pain, that's what I learned. I've lost you once. I don't want to lose you again."

Fenris touched Anders' arm lightly. Anders flinched but gradually turned to the other man. He opened his mouth but no words emerged. Fenris waited patiently, kneading Anders' arm in encouragement.  
  
Seeing those kind eyes again, all of Anders' defenses broke and all of his kept emotions surged forward. Anders grabbed Fenris' face between his hands, frantically placing kisses everywhere, “I love you. I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

Fenris trapped Anders' hands in his, stilling the other's movements. Gazing at each other like they did when it rained, Fenris placed Anders' hands on either side of his shoulders while his own hands buried themselves into Anders' hair, bringing their lips together.

Between their slow, unhurried kisses, Fenris murmured, “I know. I wanted you to know it as well.”  
  
As if in answer, Anders held Fenris closer, deepening their kiss.  
  
That night, rain fell once again. The soft pitter-patter sound of the droplets hitting against the window filled the darkness of the room. Holding one another close underneath the covers of Anders' bed, Fenris and Anders fell asleep to the sound of the falling rain, finding comfort and warmth in each other’s embrace.

Fenris would explain his absence to Hawke later. He was sure his friend understood.   

**Author's Note:**

> Despite what this looked like, it's a PWP smut ~~that's why it's sorta all over the place~~


End file.
